Tease
by Val-Creative
Summary: Olive green eyes widened for a fraction of a minute as Dick all but -shimmied- out of his dark tights. /DickxWally-ish. Oneshot. Prompt inside. For Roro.


x.x.x

When Wally was bored, he hung around Dick because at least _interesting_ was bound to happen around the springy imp.

When Dick was bored, he practiced reverse paunches in the gymnasium which was the fourth floor of Mount Justice._Yes_, the gymnasium took up the entire floor. From time to time, Wally would observe him. Just observe. Like now, Wally observed him from his lolling position on a stack of phthalo-blue, foam-core mats as the fifteen-year-old arched those gloriously long legs smoothly in front of him, crooking one leg with the toe pointed towards the floor.

Nothing weird about _observing_. It was _interesting_. How Dick could. _Bend_. Like that. Hrm.

Wally hopped back on his bare feet to where the linoleum of the gym floor peeked from the other yellow and black mats laid out, willfully kicking his crimson-colored boots aside and patting off the veil of mat dust from his uniform. "So, uh, are you often on your hands as much as your feet?"

"_Heh_. I am a master of hand health because of it," Dick quipped in return, arching the soles of his feet up and bending out his legs on either side, "I always wondered, KF… why is it that the average person when they go to touch their toes… they can't get past their knees without complaining?"

A snort. "Because not everyone is a stretchy freak like you, Robs."

"I think the socially accepted vernacular here is 'acrobat'."

Dick somersaulted with his bottom and flats of his ungloved hands to the black section of the floor mat. "Why are you still in uniform, dude?"

Wally replied with a deadpan expression, "Why are you?"

"…Fair point." And with that, the younger teenage boy unhooked his utility belt. Olive green eyes widened for a fraction of a minute as Dick all but _shimmied_ out of his dark tights, letting them pool at his feet and revealing a pair of darkly colored biking shorts. Very… _tight_ biking shorts. Very… _short_ shorts.

Uh-huh… 'kay… _interesting_…

Seemingly unbothered by the mildly confused look on his best friend who may or may not been silently pondering if he was one to go commando, Dick did not shed any further article of clothing (already had done away with the cape before warming up for the freestanding) and arched his arms together above him, popping something soundly in his shoulder. It signaled Wally back to reality. "…Hey, aren't you supposed to shave your legs or somethin'?"

"And why am I shaving my legs?"

" 'Cause you are a gymnast or acrobat or whatever."

Dick frowned at him, scooping up a towel from the floor and dabbing the sweat on his forehead. "That's swimmers."

"Same thing, right?" Wally snickered somewhat unkindly, eyeballing his calves. "Dude, I've never seen a hairy gymnast. Just sayin'. Maybe you need to become acquainted with the razor, bro."

Instead of bristling, Dick continued dabbing himself with the air of someone with superhuman patience, and turned to give the seventeen-year-old a fierce grin. "The only acceptable reason to let anyone tell you when or what to shave is if they're putting their mouth there immediately afterwards."

"Is that an invitation?" The grin was mirrored right back. "What was that about swimmers and gymnasts having small dic—?" Wally sputtered, cut off when the towel was chucked at his face, "Oh! Oh, _duuude_!" He flung it away gingerly by his fingertips. "Not cool! That had your stinky pits on it!"

"I'm not going to whip it out to compare sizes. Thanks but no thanks."

"I wasn't asking…" Wally said, not only a bit miffed by the subtle claim, but feeling something _bizarre_ and _warm_ race up through his chest.

To distract himself momentarily, he sped downstairs into the kitchen to snatch up the store-bought yellow cake cupcakes (a long story to why the oven couldn't be used anymore and why M'gann wasn't allowed to use the automated mixer; he didn't feel like reliving it mentally, alright) and sped back, cradling the opened, plastic package under his arm. As Wally sunk his teeth into gleaming, fluorescent orange-dyed icing, the eyelets of Dick's mask thinned.

"For a runner, you aren't much of a health freak."

"That's a common misconception…" Wally said smugly, teeth stained, "And I'm _not_ just any runner."

Dick made a thoughtful noise, leaning over to pick up his belt and cape. "The muscles in your legs and gluts are more toned than mine because of your training as Kid Flash. It's facts," he recited. The speedster horsed down his next mouthful of cupcake, raising a mock eyebrow.

"You sneakin' peeks on the side or something?"

"You don't have to be hungry to read the menu." Wally's mouth slipped open as Dick sent over his _'I-know-something-you-don't-because-I'm-the-goddamn-Robin-and-you-mad-bro' _smile.

"…I…don't even know what to say to that, man. That was just weird."

"I thought you would be use to the occasional flirt since you dish them out regularly," Dick told him.

The remaining cupcake in Wally's hand squished into a crumbly, icing mess. Oh…

"Wait, you're flirting?" _Oh_…

Wally shook the mess from his left hand, looking both frantic and more confused than earlier, asking again, "_Wait_, you're flirting with… _me_? Right now?"

Dick stepped over, rapping his knuckles on Wally's forehead hard, and the older teenager flinched back.

"…Maybe Artemis was on to something yesterday when she said you had rocks for brains."

"Dude, knock it off." Wally pushed his hand away, scowling. "Are you seriously…?"

"Rocks. For brains," Dick repeated, and there was no way in hell that Wally could miss the hint of appreciation in his voice, "But, honestly? Your legs are killer…"

The warm feeling in Wally's chest _exploded_, and despite the flushing he knew had to be obvious on his face, he snickered once again out loud.

"Okay, Rob, now you are just trying too hard…"

"Kettle, you should meet pot sometime."

"Insults? Definitely a mood-breaker. Try again," Wally informed him, olive green eyes eager and absorbed, his skin goose bumped, as Dick's thumb idly, rhythmically sketched the hollow of his arm.

"You know me." Dick's chin lifted intently, his lips curling upward, and… looking away slowly was becoming less of an option. "Can't resist a challenge… even if you do smell like fish and sugar."

"Weirdest turn-on ever."

"You ready?"

"Born ready." Wally then hesitated, his usually unfailingly confident expression fading. "…Wait, what exactly am I getting ready for?"

Dick clapped a hand over his own mouth, smothering his giggles. "You know what…" He patted Wally's freckled cheek a couple times. "I think… we should talk about this when you are older." The skin beneath Dick's lingering hand warmed further at the verbal jab.

"…Oh-ho. Not cool, bro," Wally muttered under his breath. The speedster crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue childishly at Dick's back when it was turned.

Ignoring him, the younger boy tossed his towel over his shoulder. "How do you feel about going out…"

Wally gawked. "_Hwat—_?.!"

"…—to eat?" Dick finished, cheekily. The other boy willed the blood away from pounding in his head and in… no, Wally wasn't going there either mentally. _Gaahhhhhaaaa_… well… at least he wasn't bored.

"Just pick somewhere good, stretchy freak."

"Don't I always?"

x.x.x

* * *

><p><em>YJ Anon Meme<em> _Prompt:_

_Wally's cracking gymnast jokes at Dick's expense, etc._


End file.
